


Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me

by Adarian



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 06:54:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7564486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adarian/pseuds/Adarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Adaar asks Cullen why he believed Chantry ideology for so long, he tells her about the reeducation questioning Templars face. He tells about his own experiences over the years and how it nearly took away everything he held dear.</p><p>Written for a kink-meme prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me

**CW: Torture, Drowning, Threat of Sexual Violence, Addiction.**

_"I have to say, Cullen, I don't get it."_

_Cullen frowned and turned to Inquisitor Adaar. "What do you not understand?"_

_"How the Templars can buy this crap," Adaar explained, her nostrils flaring in anger. "The Chantry has been treating your people like shit for generations and yet you all hold onto this toxic ideology even when it literally kills you. You stood up to your Knight-Commander and its admirable, but how did it get that bad before any of you did something about it?"_

_Cullen bristled and Adaar softened her tone. "I just mean that you're a good man and you're not a fool. Why did you go along with this? Did you really believe it? I can't believe it's just the lyrium."_

_"I'd rather not talk about it," Cullen murmured._

_"Look...we've got leagues of your former colleagues out there who are suffering and following a maniac. I'd like to save them and stop others from joining them. If there's anything you can tell me...please, Cullen."_

_Cullen leaned against the rail, looking back towards the mountains._

_Adaar apologized, "I'm sorry. I just want to understand what makes you guys think the way you do or at least, what changed if you used to think mages were monsters? You don't have to tell me and I'm sorry that I asked. And definitely sorry that I just attacked you with it."_

_Cullen took a deep breath. "I...I told you once that I was a child when I joined the Templar Order and that I was a fairly old recruit. Most were given by the time they could walk and talk."_

_"So you're saying you were raised to think like that?"_

_Cullen shook his head. "Yes, but it is more complicated than that."_

_Adaar frowned. "Complicated?"_

_"All soldiers question," Cullen began. "It is human nature to observe, to gain more information, to build conclusions. But Templars cannot hesitate. When a Commander tells them to strike, they must do so without fail. A moment's pause could lead to the doom of many. You do an order quickly and without question. A Commander's word is law out of pure necessity. You offer yourself as a tool, as a weapon, and you allow the master swordsman to use you as they see fit."_

_"A sword that does not cut cleanly must be sharpened," Cullen quoted bitterly. "And when Templars do not serve as they should, they too must be honed."_

_Adaar whispered, "My God, what did they do to you?"_

***

When Cullen was brought by ferry over to the Tower, the aged Templar escorting him warned him of the desires of the body, the corrupting influence of mages on a man's very soul. It was a thought that stayed with him for all of a few hours. 

It's an old story, love at first sight. Two people whose paths should never meet turn and see the other and know that world has shifted beneath their feet. He was barely eighteen and she near seventeen. They had lived completely opposite lives and were posed to be on opposite sides, one with complete power over the other.

And yet when Cullen saw the elven woman, her beautiful smile, nothing else mattered but her. And though he did not know it then, she felt the same.

Surana was not a tall woman, barely coming up to his chin. She had black, tightly curled hair, which she often tied back in a misbehaving bun. Her ebony skin was flawless, though this came with years of using her potion making skills to create amazing cosmetics. While many a mage might have used those long eyelashes to get whatever she wanted, Surana seemed to have no idea of the effect those beautiful, expressive eyes had on others. 

She approached him at first and the two spent many evenings talking in the library, though Cullen often pretended he was there for reasons other than her company. In time, their meetings moved to more private locations and they tried not to acknowledge the other in front of anyone else.

It was a situation that pained them both. In the Circle, they could do little more than sneak a few minutes here and there to kiss in the dark and confess their love again and again. And then go back to acting like strangers. There was no future, certainly, and more than once Surana tried to break it off, hoping Cullen would find another and have a normal life. But he only wanted her; he only ever wanted her. This could work, this could survive, and if it were all they could have, then it would be enough.

And then the uprising happened.

Cullen should have followed his orders, but he fled, searching for his love. He found her at the hands of a demon and he slew it. Both shaking and frightened, Cullen pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

Since they were alone and it was the end of the world, it did not stop there.

Cullen was later told that it was two weeks before the uprising was quelled, but he lost all sense of time. He and Surana locked themselves in the Knight Captain's private rooms and they would venture out only rarely to find supplies. The rest of the time they spent in each other's arms and in their stolen bed. While the Tower fell around them, they were each other's world.

On forage for food, Cullen was captured. The blood mages-

Perhaps it is best not to dwell on that part. 

He was rescued by the Warden Amell, childhood friend to his love. As it looked as if order might be restored and all that would go back to as it was, Cullen helped Surana escape with the Wardens.

They stood on the dock in the middle of the night. Surana looked drained and exhausted. He held her little hands in his as the others prepared the boat.

"Come with me," she begged.

"Soon," he promised. "I will tell them you are dead and then I will resign my post in a few months to avoid suspicion. Go to Honnleath and find my family."

He slipped his lucky coin into her hand. "Show them this and tell them who you are to me. My love, my heart, and the other half of my soul. And one day, if you'd have me, my wife."

She kissed him, having no better words. Even as she fled into the night, he had hope. A few months. He could play along for a few months. Then just leave. He would go back to the farm, build his own house for them in time. 

It was, however, not as easy as he believed it would be.

***

The surviving Templars who had been exposed to blood magic were sent for reconditioning. A few weeks, a few months at most, and they would feel better. Cullen thought it was wise to make sure they were not possessed and was almost relieved. When the treatment was over he could simply say that he did not feel fit for duty and ask for a medical discharge. And during that time, he could rest.

The retreat was in the far north of the country, though Cullen was not entirely sure where. He was too tired from the long trip and the reintroduction of lyrium in his system after weeks of a limited supply was making him unfocused. 

Cullen was brought to his own room in the castle and allowed to settle in. He had a short nap before being woken for dinner. After he expected to go back to his room, but he was instead escorted into the lower levels and into a small, dark room. He was shoved in and it was locked behind him. He tried to pull at the doors, but found the strength had left his hands. 

A few moments later a Chantry Sister entered, a beautiful young woman beside her. The other woman kept her head bowed. 

The Sister asked, "Cullen Rutherford?"

Cullen nodded.

"Do you know why you are here, Cullen?"

He tried to reply but found he was unable to. The woman's eyes met his and he realized she was a mage. He looked back to the Sister fearfully.

"We are not concerned that you might be possessed, Cullen," the Sister said coolly, "if that is what you think. Every mage exposed to demons in that tower has been thoroughly examined and all those too inexperienced put to the brand. We are hunting every one of these escaped blood mages and believe me when I say that we will find them and we will kill them. Your brothers and sisters in arms will be reevaluated and sent to the field again. But you, for now, will not."

The Sister tilted his chin, forcing him to look at her. "I know about the girl."

Cullen felt the invisible hand on his throat tighten. He coughed, trying to get enough air into his lungs. 

"We need to know where she is, Cullen. Every mage from the Circle must be accounted for. We cannot let this madness spread. She will not be harmed if she is innocent. You have nothing to fear for her. But we cannot begin your reevaluation if you are not dedicated to the Order."

Suddenly Cullen could breathe and he fell to his knees, wheezing. He still could not speak, so instead he shook his head. 

The mage whispered, "He loves her."

The Sister laughed. "Of course he does. We will leave him for now, Pride. We have others to attend to."

Pride left the room with her and the door slammed shut. Cullen took control of his breathing, trying not to hyperventilate and harm his injured throat. 

They left him alone for nearly thirty hours before he was given a blanket and a cup of stale water. He slept for most of it, knowing to try to keep his strength. 

Pride returned a few hours later with a pitcher of water and two pieces of bread. He ate hungrily, stuffing it down as quickly as possible. Her magic flowed over him and his aching muscles relaxed.

"Thank you," he managed to whisper.

She only replied, "It gets worse."

She took the remnants from him and he rested again on the floor, wrapping the blanket around him. His belly cramped but he forced himself to keep the food down. 

A few hours later, the Sister came into the room, Pride trailing behind her.

The Sister asked, "Do you know how long you have been down here, Cullen?" 

He shook his head. 

"Fifty hours now, almost to the minute. In a man your size, considering how little you've had to eat, your body will be burning off the last of its lyrium stores. Have you ever gone through withdrawal before, Cullen?"

He closed his eyes and shook his head. She slapped his face and he looked back up at her. The Sister grasped his chin.

"Tell me where the girl is and you can rejoin the others upstairs. You're the only one foolish enough to play this game. You are only going to harm yourself, you know. Tell me where you sent her."

Cullen rasped, "No."

The Sister looked to Pride. "I require an answer. Do as you are expected to."

The Sister placed her hand on the door and smiled sadly at Cullen. "A sword that does not cut cleanly must be sharpened and when Templars do not serve as they should, they too must be honed." 

The Sister locked them both in. Pride pushed Cullen against the wall. She pinned his arms above his head and he was unable to fight her off. 

"I am sorry," she murmured.

Cullen found himself at a lake near where he had grown up. His feet were in the water, splashing his brother swimming nearby. His sisters weren't far. One seemed frozen, sinking just beneath the water. Cullen dove in, the water freezing cold. His breath left him and his lungs burned as he swam deeper and deeper, trying to pull Mia up to the surface. 

They were both drowning, but it did not end. Still he swam further and still she slipped from his grasp. There was no bottom to the lake. There was only water.

When the mage released him from the image, he gasped, trying to breathe. She slammed him back against the wall and it started again. Mia sinking. Mia unable to fight. Her pale fingers in the water reaching for him. 

The second time she released him, he started sobbing. He tried to fall to his knees, but she kept him in place easily, her hand on his bare chest.

 _Hadn't he been wearing a shirt?_ He thought briefly. 

"Where is Apprentice Surana?" Pride asked.

Even through his tears, he shook his head.

Pride warned, her voice full of pity, "You are growing weak. You will not be able to break my spell so easily soon. I can see more in your mind. You think so loud and feel so hard. There is more I can do and I don't want to do it."

He shook his head again, closing his eyes.

He plunged back into the water and following his sister down into the Void, unable to neither surface or drown. So close to grab her, and yet she would always slip away from him.

Cullen woke shivering on the floor, naked and covered in cold sweat. He heard the screams of someone else in a cell further down the hall. He tried to touch the wall beside him, but the mere brush of the stone sent pain through his entire body. He curled back onto his own body, reaching out in vain for the blanket. 

His whole body roiled as his body begged desperately for lyrium. He bit at his hands, trying to focus on one part of his body. He tried to punch the wall at one point, but he was too weak.

Pride entered the cell and sat him up, bringing him into her lap. He did not protest as she tipped the cup of water to his lips. He drank greedily and ate the grapes she fed him, her fingers against his lips. 

"I can make it better," she murmured. "Trust me."

"I won't tell you," he whispered. "Not...no..."

"They won't let you die. You're too valuable. They've spent too much time making you their weapon. Just before you're clean, they'll give you lyrium again. They'll do this again and again until you finally break. Tell them something, anything. You don't have to tell the truth."

"Why are you doing this?" He pleaded. 

"It is my duty. As recovering is yours. Don't fight it, Cullen. You're not stopping it from happening. You're only suffering. This is your choice. You can end it."

He shook his head and when he stirred this time, he was in a tavern. He was alone at the bar, unable to reach for the drink before him. He heard a groan and he turned, seeing Surana nearly naked, draped over a table, her ass presented to a man in full Templar armour. He thrust inside of her and she cried out in pleasure, rutting against the table. The Templar spilled into her and withdrew, another replacing him. She still moaned and panted and begged for more. 

Cullen tried to move, but he couldn't. A woman sat behind him, her breasts against his back. Her hand slipped between his thighs.

She moaned into his ear. "Look at her. A mage will give the show of her life for a little power. Did she make you think you were special? Did she make you think that she loved you? Why don't you line up behind the rest, Cullen? Take your turn with her. Or you could let me touch you. A mage is a mage, a girl is a girl. Turn around and you won't have to watch her anymore. I'll take care of you. I'll make it stop hurting."

Cullen resisted and looked to the false image of his lover. 

"She's not waiting for you. She's laughing in bed with another, telling him about the foolish Templar she tricked into letting her walk away. You tell me where she is, Cullen, and we'll bring her back home to you. No one else will touch her except you. She'll belong to you. Tell me where she is."

Cullen said nothing and she threw him to the floor. The patrons laughed as Pride straddled his hips, rubbing her body against his. She kissed him and she tasted of lyrium. He gasped and kissed her back, the pain in his limbs beginning to fade. His body could no longer resist, but some last piece of strength let him break the connection.

He shuddered on the stones of the cell and Pride sat on top of him. A vial of lyrium was in her hand and the needle dripped onto his forearm. He saw the injection site, his dehydrated skin bruised and bloody.

"I can give you more," she promised, grinding against him. "Tell me where she is."

He whimpered, "Honnleath."

The needle breached his skin once again and he groaned, his pulse slowing, his breathing growing deeper and fuller. He sighed and Pride kissed his lips before taking the apparatus away.

Cullen would spend the next two weeks in a lyrium daze, unsure of where he was. He had vague memories, vague thoughts. His sisters. Rosaline. He dreamed of Rosaline in a field of daisies when she was young. He dreamed of the Chantry where he trained, his childhood friends beside him. He dreamed of being rescued at the Circle, his old friend Alistair pulling him to his feet. He dreamed of all he had gone through at the Tower, the things blood mages did to him and his brothers and sisters in arms. All confirmed to him again and again that he had survived, that the Order had protected him, as it always had. 

And sometimes there was a girl with brown eyes and dark skin, watching him from across a room. But whenever he looked at her, she disappeared. 

***

Cullen was sent to Kirkwall. Once he arrived, he wrote no letters home. When he thought of his family, a strange sort of numbness entered his body. Rosaline he remembered best, though when she was a toddler, not as the teenager she was. His brother was a pleasant thought at best. Something to do with frogs. He liked frogs. 

But Mia...Mia he could not think about without breaking into a cold sweat. When he received her first letter, he tore it up without even looking at it. The second he barely managed to open but after a few lines tossed into the fire. 

Part of him, deep down, thought there was something he shouldn't know. That it was dangerous for him to know. 

Mia kept writing and eventually Meredith wrote a single letter back, explaining that Cullen was fine and that there was nothing to worry about. Mia kept writing. 

The dreams started again in his second year in Kirkwall. An elven woman with brown eyes, a sweet smile on her face. He was with her. It was Ferelden, maybe somewhere in the Frostbacks. She held him to her and he recognized her scent. Sandalwood. She always smelled like sandalwood.

He always felt at peace when he woke up from those dreams, of walking with a mysterious and silent woman through the forests of his homeland. He didn't take lyrium those mornings, postponing it until the afternoon just so the feeling could linger. But the vague memory of pain always won out. 

A few months before the Qunari invaded, Cullen wrote home, addressing the letter instead to Rosaline. Mia replied instead and Cullen this time was brave enough to open it. His fingers shook, his chest tightening. The words did not ease it.

His parents were gone. They had died as they fled north during the Blight. Everyone else had lived. By the time the Templars had made their way to Honnleath, Mia had managed to smuggle the one he sent to them out. All were safe now and living on a farm outside of Orzammar. 

They were practiced words. Mia had clearly written this letter a hundred times, never sure when Cullen would actually read one. 

At the end, Mia pleaded: _Maker, please tell me you're alive._

Cullen wrote back briefly and his instincts told him to send it outside of the Order's outgoing mail. He smuggled it out and paid good coin to ensure any returns came straight to him. A few weeks later, he received a reply. He went to a bar in the wrong part of town to read it privately. When he unfolded the parchment, another paper fell out. He opened it.

_Whatever they've done, whatever they've said, know that I still love you. I will always wait for you. I know that if you could you'd be home here with us. I wish I could write more, but I can't put you in danger. I love you so much. Please come home._

Things flooded back so quickly Cullen felt like he was drowning. The woman in his dreams was real. She loved him. He loved her. There was something in that first letter. There was a reason he had torn it up, a reason he had burned the second.

He had helped a mage escape, one who he had broken all his vows for. He had betrayed her once when he was too weak. If he knew nothing, he could share nothing. He couldn't know that he had promised an apostate his hand in marriage, couldn't know that he loved her above all, was willing to sacrifice all for her. 

Cullen left the bar and went straight to the Gallows. He wrote his letter of resignation quickly and went to Meredith's office. She allowed him inside and took the parchment from him with amusement.

"You wish to leave your post?" Meredith raised an eyebrow. "You cannot be serious. We are nearly at war with the Qunari and the mage underground is waiting for us to show any weakness before they pounce. I need my best soldier here, now more than ever."

Cullen shook his head. "I need to go home. Please."

Meredith leaned on her desk. "Do you remember being honed, Cullen?"

Cullen replied, "Only a little, Ser."

"Most people do not remember going through lyrium withdrawal," Meredith explained. "It's too hard on the body. I've read your report, Cullen. It was why I requested you. You are stronger than most men I have ever met, despite your past indiscretions. So tell me what troubles you so much that you would abandon everything you have worked for now?"

Cullen said nothing and Meredith reassured him. "You can trust me. We have worked together all these years in faith. What troubles you?"

Cullen swallowed and Meredith sighed. "You cannot go back to Ferelden. The Order needs you here and it is not safe for you to return. We'll take you off duty for a few days and have you see a physician. Increasing the lyrium will help with the anxiety."

"No," he resisted. "I'm fine."

He would forget again, forget this seed of something deeper than his own life. 

Meredith raised an eyebrow. "A few days rest then. We will send coin to your family if that is what they need, but we can offer little else. I am sorry, Cullen."

He left to go camping on the Wounded Coast, taking a week off from his duties. He tried to remember more, tried to understand how he could love a mage. He had spent the last four years hunting them. The things he had seen...nothing he knew matched the memory of her sweet smile. Had she duped him? Used him? 

On his second night in his retreat, he dreamed of her again. She kissed him and he brought her into his arms. He had only known her body, had only known her touch. He needed her like he needed air. She climbed on top of him and things felt...wrong. 

Cullen tried to roll her off but she slammed his shoulders to the ground with strength a woman her size seemed unlikely to possess. Her face shifted, her eyes turning green, her hair red and her skin fair.

"Tell me you love me," she purred. "Tell me you need me. Tell me you'd kill for me." 

He managed to push her off and he stood shakily. Her magic thrust him up against a wall and he was unable to move. 

This part he knew. He had gone through this game before. When had it started being an illusion? Leaving the Gallows? Meredith's office? The letter? He tried to think of his last lyrium dose, but found that everything else was slipping away.

Cullen whispered to himself, "Not real."

"I can make it as real as breathing," she said, reaching out to touch his chest. "It can be good, Cullen. I can have you screaming for me. Give yourself to me."

"No," he refused.

She leaned in and whispered into his ear. "It's hard to survive this twice. Do you know what they do to boys like you? You're too strong a soldier to waste, they won't let you go. They won't let you die either. So you have a choice, Cullen. You can submit or I can break you, piece by piece. You'll remember nothing, feel nothing."

"Why are you doing this?" He pleaded. "You're a mage."

"We all have our places in the Chantry. This is mine, to help you learn yours. You gave yourself willingly to the cause. Remember that."

The image of Surana fluttered to his mind. A rare time the mages were allowed to go swimming. He was on the shore, watching her splash around, shrieking when one of her friends tossed her into the deep. When she did not surface, he dove in, still in his full armour. He took it off piece by piece as he swam after her. 

_Do you remember this, Cullen? You couldn't save Mia, no matter how hard you swam. No matter how long you tried._

Cullen was close, but Surana was unconscious. He managed to scoop her into his arms and started kicking towards the surface. But he wasn't strong enough. His lungs started to burn and the memories of drowning crashed into him. He panicked, trying to move. It was the same, all the same again.

_You can survive if you let her go. You never had the chance with your sister, but you can live now. It will stop hurting._

Cullen refused, holding her tight to his chest. He couldn't breathe, his throat filling with water. She was already gone, he could see it in her blank expression. His love lay dead in his arms and she was suffocating him.

If he could die with her, he would, but he knew this game. He would drown for hours, again and again, and be no closer to her. 

It had hurt less when he didn't remember her, when she was only a faint dream. He could go back to that, he could. He barely had survived this before and now he needed lyrium so frequently the withdrawals could start any time now. 

He was justifying it all to himself when he snapped back to the room. He glanced around, seeing he was in a cell in the Gallows. The mage stood before him. She was beautiful, certainly. He recognized her. She worked at the Rose. Some of his recruits had been raving about her while he tried to ignore them. 

It was another way of control. The drugs, the sex. Satisfying base needs in order to keep them in line, to forget everything else but duty. 

"Ready to go again?" She asked.

He whispered, "Lay on."

***

He would spend two months underground while he was wiped clean. He surfaced again just before the Qunari invasion and he fought beside his brothers and sisters in arms then. No one mentioned his absence, commented on his calm demeanor or his renewed vigor. 

Years went by. He didn't write his sister again. He only spoke to those of the Order, with the rare exception of when Hawke would pester him. He had been instructed to leave the mage alone, but her presence angered him. She was a danger, a threat, and she was being allowed to walk the streets without penalty. And her apostate friend, the blonde, he needed to be hunted down, not allowed to live solely because of his connection with her.

One day, he had his chance.

His men raided Darktown and he found the apostate in his clinic. Anders was dragged out and tossed at Cullen's feet. He looked so pitiful on his knees, so skinny and so tired. Anders looked up at Cullen, not saying a word in his defense. 

Cullen ordered for them to be left alone, keeping Anders' magic under control. He felt resistance at first, but Anders grew weak. Cullen was stronger than he ever had been before and the feeling gave him a rush.

"You won't beg for your life, mage?" Cullen spat.

Anders said quietly, "You don't remember me, do you? I remember when you used to go on your walks with Surana. I told her to be careful, but she always assured me that you were a good man. You were the sort of man a mage had no reason to be afraid of."

Cullen growled, "You cannot manipulate me or use my mind against me. You will be brought to the Gallows and you will be hanged."

"There's a reason you haven't killed me already," Anders replied, daring to look up into his eyes. "It's because you can't. Because part of you knows it's wrong. I know what they've done to you, Cullen. I hear a lot in the Underground. I always kept an ear out for you, for her. I wrote to her when I could to tell her you were alive. It's what the Order does. Promotes the monsters and kills the merciful."

Cullen grasped him by his throat and pulled him up to his feet. "You've spoken too much, abomination. You will learn to hold your tongue for your last hours."

Anders managed to get out hoarsely, his eyes glowing blue. "I won't kill you, for her, but I will destroy every one of your men before you lay another hand on me or any of my people again."

Cullen suddenly fell to the ground, feeling as if a boulder had smashed onto his chest. He hit his head, hard, and all went black.

***

He woke in the medical ward, a healer examining his ribs. He was told what had happened, but it washed over him. Five dead and the apostate gone. 

But the mage had let him live. 

He had stolen his underwear once, Cullen remembered, surprised as the thought arose. Anders had stolen his underwear and pinned it to the Chantry notice board. Everyone laughed and Anders pretended to be innocent. Cullen had laughed only when Surana brought them back to him, the image of her stealing anything from the Chantry too sweet. 

Meredith put him back on duty three days later, his lyrium increased to the maximum dose. He kept his men out of Darktown and away from Anders. He couldn't say why. 

***

Two years later, the Chantry exploded.

Cullen didn't remember much of that day. There was running and screaming. There was a Warden, a Warden who chased after him, begging for him to listen to her. The lyrium hummed so strongly in him he heard nothing but his own thoughts.

Meredith needed to be stopped. She had made them monsters. All of them. For the mages, for his men, it needed to be ended. 

It was only after he fought side by side with Hawke, after Meredith lay dead, that everything started to sink in. He fell to his knees, sobbing, grasping at his hair. The Warden knelt beside him and he recognized her. She had stood on a boat, her arm around Surana as they fled to safety. He knew her. She was his friend.

Amell murmured to him, "It's over, Cullen. I'm going to take you home."

He buried his head in her shoulder as if he was a child. Amell wrapped her arms around him, running her fingers through his hair. 

Cullen went to the Wardens north of the city. He started weaning himself off the lyrium, a little less each day. To say it hurt would be inaccurate. The withdrawal nearly killed him, even in those small increments. Memories threatened to overwhelm as much as the pain in his entire body. Amell stayed by his side until he was strong enough to travel. She left her Second in charge and got them both on a ship to Gwaren.

By the time those two weeks at sea were over, Cullen was at the dosage he had been when he first left Ferelden. It wasn't enough and his body screamed for more, but it was enough he felt almost human again. He wanted to be alone and Amell gave him space. It was easier for him to suffer alone. It made it feel like it was real.

They journeyed by carriage over to Honnleath. Cullen rested through much of it, trying to sleep through the pain. His headaches had grown worse, almost unbearable, but Amell assured him that was a good thing. He was down to what he had been just before the Tower Crisis. They'd stay at that point for a while. There would be enough to adjust to back home; she didn't want to rush it. Cullen trusted her judgment since he didn't trust his. 

They arrived in at the farmstead near noon and Amell helped him out of the carriage. Cullen looked weakly at his unfamiliar surroundings. The house had been rebuilt, nothing of his childhood home remaining.

They made it only a few feet before Mia raced out the door and held her brother tightly. Cullen bend down to let his sister curl around him. She felt safe. She let go of him but took his hand and led him into the house. 

"We're going to introduce you to everyone else soon," she said, "but I thought we'd just see family first, build you up to it. Warden Amell said that your memories are coming back."

Cullen nodded, looking around the new kitchen. "Do you live here?"

"Yes," she said, "we all do. It's easiest that way. There's been a lot of work to do after the Blight and we like being together." 

He went into the living room where his younger siblings stood and hugged him. Both of them were grown and it shocked him. He didn't want to let go of them, so grateful they had survived the Blight. 

An elven woman stood nervously and Cullen's heart jumped into his throat. He brought her into his arms and kissed her. Tears ran down her face as she kissed him back. He cradled her face in his hand.

"I never thought I'd see you again," he whispered.

"Me neither," she murmured, stroking his hair from his eyes. "I think you've gotten taller since I last saw you. And that scar's new."

She traced his lip and he said, "A present from the Qunari revolt."

Surana took a deep breath. "I don't know if you're ready for this, but there's something I need to tell you."

Mia looked panicked. "Maybe..."

Cullen shook his head. "I'm okay."

Surana took his hand and led him to the backyard. Several children played in the grass with a young woman. 

Surana admitted, "I don't know how to say this."

Cullen noticed two twin girls playing a skipping game. They were about six years old. Beautiful light brown skin, both with incredibly curly black hair in pigtails. His grip tightened on Surana's hand.

"I found out I was pregnant a few weeks after we left the Tower," Surana said quietly. "We left for the north just after then, the darkspawn were too many. They were born just outside Orzammar."

Cullen's chest tightened and tears flowed down his face. "Noam..."

"I couldn't tell you," she apologized. "It wasn't safe for them or for you. I kept thinking you would come home and I waited and I just..."

He kissed her. "I'm sorry I wasn't here."

"You are now," she assured, "and I know you went through the Void to get here. We lost seven years. I don't want to spend any more of them angry or scared. Let's just...let's just be."

He asked, "Do they know?"

Surana said softly, "They know who you are and that you were serving overseas. I didn't tell them you were coming home. Just in case...just in case you weren't ready."

"I'm not," he admitted, "but I want to be there for you and for them. I missed so much, I'm not missing anymore."

One of the girls fell and started crying. Surana went over to comfort her and the other girl looked up, seeing Cullen. She ran over.

"You look like Uncle Branson but old," she said accusingly.

Cullen laughed. "I guess I do."

"What's your name?"

"Cullen."

"That's my dad's name," she said.

"What's yours?" He asked.

"Lily." 

Cullen smiled. "It's nice to meet you, Lily."

Surana walked back over with his other daughter. She hid behind Surana, only briefly peeking out. 

Surana said, "Lily, Daisy, this is your father."

Daisy peered at Cullen before hiding again. Lily jumped up into Cullen's arms and he caught her. She started talking excitedly to him about all the things she had planned for them and while he felt incredibly overwhelmed, Surana's soothing smile reassured him that he was safe.

The next few months were difficult. Cullen slowly went off the last of the lyrium and tried to adjust to his new family life. He had help. He was surrounded by the people who loved him most and he was inspired by his two daughters. Lyrium had taken him from them. He wasn't allowing it to do it again. 

But he would always have the nightmares. He wouldn't go near lakes or rivers and didn't even have deep baths. He would always wake up in a cold sweat and feel for Surana beside him. When she wasn't there, to check on the girls or get some water, he would panic and search for her. It would lessen in time, but not much.

They married half a year after he returned home and had another daughter a few months later. Both Lily and Daisy adored their sister and Cullen found such peace holding his infant daughter in his arms. He carried her everywhere, making a little sling so she could travel on his front. 

Two years after Helen was born, Cassandra sought Cullen out. He initially refused, not thinking himself strong enough to lead an army and fearing a relapse. But Surana told him that he was the one they needed. He understood both sides of the Mage and Templar war. They needed peace.

So he went.

***

_When Cullen finished speaking, Adaar looked out onto the courtyard. Cullen's wife was in the grass with their three children, heavily pregnant with their fourth._

_"I sent for them the minute it was safe," he said. "I missed too much of their lives and it is safer here than it is in Honnleath. I felt guilty at first, but they are all adjusting well. They've all taken a liking to Dorian. He thinks Daisy might be a mage. I think he might be right. We'll know soon enough."_

_"How much does your wife know?" Adaar asked._

_"Everything," he murmured. "We keep no secrets from each other."_

_"I'm sorry," Adaar apologized, "for earlier, I didn't know."_

_"Templars have been taught to be weapons and we act like that by instinct," he said softly. "It is like trying to tame a wild animal that has been raised to be a man eater. My family is the reason I have survived, Inquisitor. Most Templars are not so lucky. There have no been enough gentle people in their lives. You ask me how to fight them. I say show them that here they can be respected and treated well, that they can be loved and validated. That is how you will win your war."_

_Adaar wasn't sure what to say and he excused himself. He left the ramparts and went down into the courtyard, greeting his children. He laughed and smiled, something Adaar rarely saw. He kept his arm protectively around his wife's waist as the three children chased beside them, speaking rapidly to them._

_Adaar stayed on the walls, unsure what to do or say next. So for a time she just stood, looking out onto the mountains._


End file.
